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Archive for the ‘South Africa’ Category

I spend a considerable portion of my time on Earth pondering life’s lesser insanities. It really is one of the few downsides of having an unrecognised job, along with the frequent discovery that its noon and you’re still wearing your pyjamas. That aside, I send this ramble into cyber space because in a mere three weeks the feature film of Spud will premiere around the country and a few weeks thereafter (Dec 3rd) will hit cinemas all over Southern Africa. What began as a telephone call in early October 2005 is about to be unleashed as the final result of sixty months of decisions by some extremely cunning people and the odd cat.

For risk of sounding like a hippie, it is an unmitigated triumph that this film was ever made at all. (That it stars an extremely tall and famous man called Cheese makes it all the more unlikely.)Unfortunately the completion of the marathon doesn’t seem to matter much to the lunatic fringe of Spud support who regularly bustle up to my face with unblinking, questioning eyes and lead with, “So tell me honestly John, is the film better or worse than the book?” A nasty catch-22 for any author as one is cordially invited either to slag off your own work, or the movie based on that work with little hope of evading the question in anything less than an afternoon’s worth of explanation. This repeated question naturally inspired some pondering about the point; why is it that people are almost instinctively wired to compare a film to its source material? How can the experience of reading something for days/weeks be equated with that of viewing something else for 100 minutes? It is the equivalent of asking, “Which is more enjoyable, five days in Bali or two hours in Paris?”

So my advice is to forget about comparisons and relish the film for what it is: A beautifully shot but simply told story of a boy seeking acceptance from the mortifying chaos that surrounds him. Troye Sivan as Spud has produced a performance of such delicate authenticity that it’s impossible not to feel terribly for the poor lad as he staggers from one disaster to another against seemingly insurmountable odds. John Cleese (The Guv) is as humourous as always but adds another dimension to his role of the cranky, wine-swilling English teacher. Some of my favourite scenes of the film are the luncheon discussions between the two characters where they attempt to come to grips with fine literature and women. The locations of Michaelhouse are utterly authentic; the dormitory is the original, even so far as the positioning of Spud’s bed, so there can be few quibbles with the interpretation of setting from book to screen. Hell, even the old green stationwagon broke down on its first day of shooting!

But enough about the blasted film, further good news for Spud fans is that a re-release of Spud to mark the launch of the film will hit stores next week as will the behind the scenes of the movie book written by producer Ross Garland and yours truly. The behind the scenes book contains some fantastic untold stories about the making of Spud the film including the freakish manner in which we were able to snare the signature of John Cleese. I’m also extremely proud to announce that the book has quite possibly the longest title in South African Non-fiction literary history:

…as the redoubtable Sally Scott, who’s covered the story like it’s a proper beat, mentions in her latest Spudwise article:

And so it begins. It’s no secret that the doings of 13-year-old KwaZulu-Natal boarding school pupil Spud, aka John Milton, are to be committed to the big screen – in fact filming starts today in the Midlands.

Little did Durban’s John van de Ruit know, when his first novel was published by Penguin Books in September 2005, that his diary-style tales of a pre-pubescent schoolboy’s turbulent ride through an elite KZN boarding school, would become such a runaway success.

Spud, which won the 2006 Bookseller’s Choice Award, was soon whizzing around the world.

Sitting on the London Underground one afternoon I counted three commuters, in one carriage, reading Spud.

It’s been a while since I last indulged in a spot of blogging – 2009 in fact. I trust you all had a spankingly good holiday – although no doubt the memory of which has long receded in the mind. My festive season was a chaotic affair, mainly due to the fact that Jules and I moved into a new house. It was sad to leave Wombat’s flat and Wombat’s ghost behind, but neither seemed to take offence at our hasty exit. Wombat’s flat (as it is now known) is where I have done much of my Spud writing and it still has Catch 22 pasted to the wall of the study. Now faded and yellow and yet still brilliant.

Three days after moving into the new house, I received the screamworthy news that John Cleese had officially signed on the dotted line to play The Guv. Five days after that, and following months of torture, I learned that the financing had finally been secured and the film was green-lit to begin shooting in March. After years of uncertainty and one step forward, two steps back, Spud the Movie has galloped past the point of no return. A 100% privately financed film in South Africa is a rarity, and my endless thanks and gratitude go out to those who have taken the risk in the name of faith, hope and Spud. I wish for your investment to be returned tenfold. Now, for those of you who aren’t that well versed in the lingo of film, being privately financed means that creative control and all creative decisions remain in the hands of the producers rather than film studio execs, or even worse, a pushy financier who once starred in a house play at school. That means we live or die by the creative decisions we are making right now, and will continue to make for months. That all adds up to more excitement, less sleep and less fingernails.

Speaking of choices, final casting for the teen roles is imminent, although I can officially announce that the role of Spud will be played by the phenomenally talented Troye Sivan, star of Wolverine X-Men Origins. But returning to the search for the teen characters – what an intriguing process it has been. It evolved into a nationwide talent search that opened the door of possibility to many who would never have had a shot at auditioning for a film before. To call the process thorough would be an understatement and I thank you all for your patience and courage in giving it a shot. I could not tell you how many audition tapes we have watched and re-watched. Debates and discussions have zigzagged between Cape Town, Jo’burg and Durban as we gradually filed the actors down to the shortlist for each character. For those that are cast, congratulations and break a leg, to those that got so close, my commiserations – take strength in the knowledge that you got this far and the creative spirit resides in you all.

As you can imagine with all the film tumult, I have had little time to cast my mind forward to the final book in the series. I’m often asked when the final Spud might magically appear in a bookstore round the corner – unfortunately I cannot answer that yet. Rest assured, as soon as I know, I’ll let you know.

For those who have read my blogs, books, or more rarely, seen a play that I have written, will know that absurdity, madness and exaggeration cling to my missives like a suspect body odour. In these times when the creative monster hibernates, I am able to look backwards and forwards and digest this rather peculiar world that I’ve stumbled into. For that is just it, up until Spud I always felt that everything achieved was a consequence of my direct input over which I was (mostly) in control. Post Spud, I have entered a world that seemingly happens to me. It’s thrilling, but I can’t help the feeling that it all appears a little charmed and out of control. One moment I’m caught up in the throes of writing and creating, and then I’m touring the country with much fanfare, like some sort of Prodigal son on yet another lap of victory. The third phase is the most difficult – the silence and banality of filling each day without waking up and jumping on the rollercoaster. One would think that regular living would be the easiest phase to adapt to, but to be honest it seems like a great pause before the next storm. The last time I was able to wake up and not have to write or promote my books was almost two years ago, and yet I have learned from that experience that despite my agonising and minor emotional torment, this period of downtime is as important as any other part of the writing cycle.

The title for the third Spud book derived from the first two lines of the chorus in Tom Petty’s song Learning to Fly.

“I’m learning to fly,
But I ain’t got wings…”

Strange that the following two lines should speak to me right now:

“Coming down
Is the hardest thing…”

Touché Petty!

But before I lapse too far into indulgence, let me say that I have been thinking greatly about what will follow the final Spud book. And whilst I’ve learned never to say never; it would take a prolonged period of creative or financial bankruptcy to force me back into the world of schoolboys after Spud 4. The “undiscovered country” is a tantalizing thought, along with the creation of a new set of characters which leaves me slightly tremulous with anticipation. But that’s all for the future and in the lap of the Gods. Right now I’ve got to figure out what to have for lunch and whether it might rain this afternoon or not. Since i don’t have an umbrella this may factor into whether I take a walk to fetch the evening paper or not… Let’s face it, it’s a risk… Okay I’ve decided, I’m staying in with Stephen Fry’s priceless journey through America and a pot of steaming tea for company.

I’m also on a quest to track down the funniest novels of all time. I am aware that humour is subjective and that some people think haemorrhoids hilarious, but if anybody would like to add to my reading list I would be most thrilled. After copious research and mass trawling through websites i have purchased the following…

Hello all – the ‘Spud the Movie’ website has launched and is open for business!

So all the information you’ve be wondering about like auditions, release dates and all your other burning questions about the movie can be directed to the website. Click on the below link to enter the website:

Spud the movie is well on track for a 2010 shoot and cinema release. Casting for the movie will begin in August 2009. Information about how to audition will be available at www.spudthemovie.com from 15 July when the film’s website launches. Visit the website from that date to find out when, where and how to audition. There will also be an online process so that we can go to the ends of the earth or least the ends of Mpumalanga to find our Fatty and the rest of the crazy Spud characters.

The bugger about growing older is that it’s an invisible act of decay. Like watching a rose bloom, one minute it’s a bulging bud and the next it’s as vast as a cauliflower, falling to pieces, and soiling its vase water. Yesterday, against all odds, I turned 34 years old, which no doubt some of you will think sounds old, and others will deem it mere spring chickendom. The thing is, I felt exactly the same on the morning of my birthday as I’d felt the previous night when I was still a youthful and vigorous 33 year old – apart from the blinding hangover that is. Now 34, I considered my somewhat haggered and unshaven face in the bathroom mirror and tried to analyse my visage dispassionately. My Dorian Gray moment was shattered by a sly mosquito who emerged out of a small potted bathroom fern with intent to give me the Gecko treatment. In Cambodia the nocturnal female mosquitos spread malaria, and by day, a different species of female mozzie spreads Dengue fever. There is no mention of the rare Dawn and Dusk mosquito in my guidebook, although local wisdom has it that they’re devout pacifists that only spread goodwill.

I lunged forward and thumped my palm into the wall, but the cunning Mrs Dengue evaded my swing and sniggered loudly as my hand crashed into the wall. I am pleased to report that after a swift and bloody battle I triumphed over the death fever carrier and thumped her into the basin in a splatter of blood. But it was my blood on the basin, and my ankle now had a nasty pink welt and itched like hell. Happy Birthday Johnno – you may be 34 but you still have a way with the ladies…(more…)

Continuing my travel blog for the Penguins as the launch of Spud – Learning to Fly looms ever nearer…

I have always suspected that the ways of our modern society, and all of us that exist within it, are clinically insane if not stark raving bonkers. The notion of a mad world that refuses to acknowledge it’s inner lunatic has permeated just about everything I have ever written. The problem is – people have always assumed I was joking – another one of the perils of being a deranged moth desperately circulating the glimmering light bulb of comic Nirvana. But believe it my friends, we are all insane and living a dire catch 22 existence of madmen in a world disguised as sane. Even Eckhart Tolle says so – and only an insane would dare argue with him.

My friends, i don’t want you to be alarmed but i have embraced my inner madman in the last week and i am feeling all the better for it. No more of this “‘author in repose making a sage note in his emerald notebook” business. Oh no, not me! From this point onward i am stir-fried crazy until conclusively proven otherwise. I challenge you to do the same – it’s a highly liberating exercise.

So I discovered my inner madness on the rooftop garden of our villa (ingeniously called La Villa) overlooking the tranquillity of mountains covered in jungle, and the turquoise waters of the gulf of Thailand below. Dotted before me amongst the jungle were the odd thatch and red -roofed backpacker hang outs and everywhere was the sound of birds, small creatures and hooting lizards. For the same price as a bog variety B&B in South Africa we lived like Lords over all we surveyed. Everything that seemed so precious over the last year, myself, and the new book, no longer seemed in any way important anymore. I was indeed small up there looking down on all that natural grandeur. You feel small being the only non-Cambodian around – perhaps it’s through utter anonymity that we find our true place in the world. Perhaps not?

It wasn’t all staring at the view and contemplating our naval however. Jules and I also achieved the following: